A Relic of Times Past
by LonelyG0d
Summary: A story based in the Fallout Universe. It follows OC Richard N. Vandieken Ph.D. as he deals with the Apocalypse and it's aftermath. He is slowly Ghoulified and has to resort to violence and worse as he struggles to survive. This is an original work based in the fallout world and is mostly my own work. Mature themes, may include cannibalism, detailed violence and implied rape.


Prologue: A world in flames

The last lab tech died over a week ago. He finally gave in and ran outside. I watched from the cameras as the skin boiled off and the flesh sloughed from his bones. I would like to say something nice about him, after all we just spent the last ten months locked in a bunker together. But I can't. He may have been nice before, but he became a monster. I became a monster. Truth be told he was weak. He broke, and he died. My only lament is that he didn't leave any remains to eat.

Cannibalism. This is what I'm reduced to. It was his idea; he was the first to resort to it, the first monster. But we all chose it, in the end, those of us that lasted. And I have lasted the longest, I may even survive. The first to go were a group of seventeen, who took the last of the radiation suits after a month underground. They left to look for supplies, and never came back. Then Doctor Bain, who drowned himself two weeks later. We froze him, luckily. Then three lab techs killed themselves in a suicide pact a month later. Old Doctor Aaron found them, and had a heart attack.

One by one or in small groups they all died, the scientists, the M.D., the lab techs, the military officials and soldiers, everyone. Only I am left. Who am I? I am Richard Napoleon Vandieken, Ph.D. in applied physics and engineering. I am 58 years of age, and have lived a very comfortable life. I write this now not for record, or for science, or because I have some illusion that someone will find it. I write it for myself, for posterity. And maybe out of boredom.

But I seem to have started in the middle of the story. Every tale has a beginning, and mine started in Florida. From age six I could read. At age 7 I was correcting my teachers. Age 10 I graduated high school and began University, earning my first Ph.D. at 15, and my second by 18. Brilliant is the word. From then on I worked for the government, specializing in portable power supply for military hardware.

I lived my life on a cushy government salary and could afford many luxuries, including my PIP-boy and a number of cybernetic enhancements. They are probably what I owe my survival to most. Those; the cannibalism and an undying resolve to keep living. I may have lived a soft life, but I myself am nowhere near soft, after all my inventions are responsible for the deaths of tens of millions or more.

Speaking of mass murder; it finally happened. In the year 2077 AD, on the 23rd of October at approximately 11:39 PM EST the war began, ending at 1:12 PM EST, when the last warhead detonated. We have lived in the shadow of Nuclear war for over a century, China, the USSR, The Empire of Great Britain, The USA and the minor powers all vying to be the guy with the biggest gun. The shooting finally started, and nobody won.

But I survived. I was working on a secret project for the pentagon. Right under the pentagon, actually. Some brobdingnagian colossus they called "Liberty Prime." Nothing more than a morale boost, to be honest. And the troglodytes running the project managed to get the power distribution all fucked up, which is why the called me in after the T-51b research. I had them rip everything out, reconfigure the interior and rebuild it. There were only a few more modifications needed when the bombs made it worthless.

But enough of what's past. The present is so much more depressing. I've lost most of my hair, and shaved the rest. Some of my skin has begun to fall off, too. No amount of Rad-away will stop it, I've even bathed in the stuff and nothing happened. I must have been exposed when repairing that generator. Doesn't matter. If it kills me, so be it, fuck the world and all. But I think I'll survive, and be all the stronger for it. Radiation no longer burns, but is has a warm tingle. Not sure if that's good or bad. We'll see, I suppose.

Over the last month I've been building my own suit of armour; my personal T-51b. It's not the real thing, servos aren't as strong, but it'll stop a bullet and augment my survival tremendously, out there. Yes, I am heading outside. I ate the last can of beans this morning, and have enough human jerky to last me a week, if I'm careful. But I need more to survive.

The plan is to scout around, see what's left. I'll head to the nearest shop that looks intact and get some food, hopefully I won't have to eat human again. Then maybe out to the carrier in the bay, assuming it's still around. The Capitol Building is still there, from what the cameras show me, and may hold more survivors. If Arlington Library is still there I'll pick up some books, maybe try learn medicine, after all who else is gonna patch me up now?

Maybe I'll die, and maybe not. Either way I doubt I'll be back. Goodbye.


End file.
